


Rain

by Jaelijn



Series: Profound Bond Ficlets [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Human Castiel, Kissing, M/M, Post-Canon, in some vague future where Cas gave up his grace voluntarily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 16:02:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4186044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaelijn/pseuds/Jaelijn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas, newly human, is keen on experiencing things. Dean... isn't so keen, especially not when these things involve dancing around outside in a downpour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Prompt 21 from [this list](http://alwaysbellamyblake.tumblr.com/post/111909165950/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you) for an anon on tumblr: “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?”

“You wanna do what?!” Dean can’t believe what he is hearing.

“Go outside.”

“Cas, it’s a friggin’ thunderstorm! I am not stopping the car!” There isn’t actually any thunder, but the rain is pounding down relentless, big, heavy droplets hitting the Impala, obscuring the empty road ahead like a curtain. It came out of nowhere.

Cas, newly human, newly _Dean’s_ , doesn’t say anything in reply. He just shuffles his shoulders, sets his jaw and stares out of the window.

_Dammit._ Dean slams his hand against the steering wheel, irritated. “Cas, you’re _human_ , now. If you go out there and get drenched, you’ll catch a cold. Besides, we don’t have _time_ to stop. If Sam says he can’t handle a hunt on his own, it’s big and…” He trails off, because Cas clearly isn’t listening. He just shifts a little again, and keeps staring out of the window.

Dean has to keep his eyes on the road, the rain a deafening noise on the roof of the car and visibility as good as gone, but he can’t help shooting glances at the ex-angel. Who is most definitely sulking, damn it all. Cas has been… volatile since becoming human. It was his choice, and some days, he seems content, but others, he is insufferable. Nothing can be right. Food tastes weird. Clothes chafe, even if he’s declared them comfortable the day before. He won’t get into the car unless the windows are down. He will wander out of the bunker when it’s windy and stand on the nearby hill, arms spread. He will hole up in his room and blast horrendous music at full volume because Cas is discovering what he likes and drowning out the world at the same time.

Dean thinks today started out as a good day. Sam gone on a solo hunt meant that they slept in and had breakfast in their boxers – or PJs, in Cas’s case – in front of the TV, with no intention of moving all day. Then somehow they landed on some stupid romantic comedy about angels falling in love with humans and it all went downhill from there.

And now Cas wants to commune with the rain or something.

They drive for another five minutes in silence through the storm, wipers struggling to keep up with the onslaught and silence hanging heavily between them. Then, Cas sighs heavily, and Dean has had enough. He pulls to the shoulder abruptly, cutting the engine.

Cas stares at him, expression unreadable. It’s gone really dark, the Impala’s headlights barely cutting through the downpour.

“Fine!” Dean barks. “Go, do you hippie shit. Feel the rain, or whatever.”

“I’m not a hippie,” Cas says, looking out of the windshield.

“Whatever,” Dean grumbles, hands and gaze fixed on the wheel.

Nobody moves. The rain pounds on. Then:

“I’ve never been outside in the rain just because I could.” Cas’s voice is soft, no longer confrontational. “Not as a human, anyway. When I was an angel, I used to be able to control it – the weather, the rain, sometimes it was a sign that one of my brothers or sisters had passed through, but I never experienced the sensations of it. It didn’t feel different than walking through sunlight. I just… I wanted to try it as long as I don’t have to worry about getting dry again, or finding a change of clothes, or a place to warm up.”

Dean uncurls his fingers, one by one. “Yeah. Okay. I get it, Cas, but did you have to pick a friggin’ thunderstorm? You could have gone out in summer, when there was warm rain.”

“I didn’t want to do it in summer,” Cas says. Dean remembers – summer was when Cas was struggling with the loss of his wings above all else, when he would make Dean drive across the country and back just so they could feel the wind while the windows were down. That was about coming to terms with what he had lost. This is about building new experiences as a human.

“It’s letting up,” Cas says, into the silence.

It’s true. The noise has become a little less deafening, the sky a little less dark.

Dean leans back, unbuckles his seatbelt. “Well, what are you waiting for, then? Get out before it stops. And leave your shoes, we didn’t pack you a spare pair.”

Cas shoots him a quick, bright smile and unbuckles, pulls off his shoes and socks, then pushes open the door and steps out into the torrent, barefoot on the blacktop. The rain might be letting up, but he is still drenched within the minute, walking around to the front of the Impala, his head tilted towards the sky.

Dean stares as Cas runs a hand through his hair, dislodging droplets, then spreads his arms and just watches the sky, rain falling around him. Dean can’t see his face, but he knows Cas is smiling, and when the first rays of sunlight peak through the clouds, Cas _glows_. It’s as if a rainbow were starting just where he stands, the drops on his dark hair reflecting the light, the white shirt that’s gone practically translucent gleaming against the dark background of the empty road.

Dean pushes his own door open and steps outside, the world tasting fresh and clean after the rain, and while it’s not exactly warm, it’s not chilly, either. A few drops still fall, but the storm has moved on, and Cas is just standing there, facing Dean, and smiling. There is a strand of hair plastered to his forehead, water dripping into his eyes. He is sopping wet, shirt and dark jeans clinging, but his eyes gleam and he looks truly happy.

“Dean,” he greets, his smile growing slightly brighter.

Dean moves to meet him at the hood, poking him in the chest. “You’re sopping wet.”

“That was to be expected,” Cas counters, and it makes Dean snort a laugh.

“Yeah, I guess. Was it worth it?”

Cas shrugs, then shivers lightly. “It was… fun.”

Dean rubs his hands down Cas’s arms, still baffled that he gets to do this, now, and strokes the wet strands of hair out of Cas’s face. “I’m glad.”

“I would like to get warm, now,” Cas says, his eyes still clued to Dean’s.

“Hmmm.” The raindrops sparkle on Cas’s lashes, attempting to outshine his eyes.

Cas tilts his head, dislodging them, and blinks. “Dean?”

Dean just leans in and kisses him, wrapping Cas up in his arms, not caring about the water, or the fact that Cas reaches up to tangle a wet hand in his hair as he reciprocates, he just kisses him until he is out of breath and they are bathed in sunlight under a blue sky.


End file.
